"Hmm, why aren't the people in the fields?" I asked the headman, who had come out to see off his generous guest.
"It's lunchtime now, Master Sorcerer," he shrugged. "And harvest is still a long way off; what is there to do in the fields now? As for the gardens, thanks to the potions of Master Enri, everything is fine—no weeds, no pests." Interesting.
"Master Enri? Who is that?"
"Enri Emmott—no, wait—Nfirea Bareare. He is the alchemist I mentioned before, a very gifted young man! He supplies some useful potions, you know, for fertility, against pests... I don't understand much of it; they work, and that's enough."
"I see." A young alchemist and Carne Village—here was more proof that I was in the world of the canon.
Just then, a young girl caught my attention. Unlike almost all the other villagers, she wasn't staring in our direction. Instead, she was walking purposefully toward us, clutching the hand of a little girl in one hand and some kind of bundle in the other.
"And there goes Enri with her sister," the headman noted, following my gaze. "The sweetheart of our alchemist. The men and I have already placed bets on when he'll find the courage to ask her for a walk, he-he." Shalltear flinched noticeably and cast a sad look at the girl; the subject was clearly unpleasant for her given the current circumstances. Why did this man even decide to enlighten some random stranger on all these details? Though... well, peasant life, boredom—any event that breaks the usual cycle can be discussed for months, and here was not just an event, but a new set of ears. Why not wag his tongue?
"Hello," Enri said, approaching us with an open smile. "My name is Enri Emmott, and you are Zellos-san, right?" A brave girl. I wouldn't have risked approaching a mysterious two-meter-tall man with a completely hidden face and an outfit of someone incredibly wealthy so abruptly.
"Yes, that is correct."
"I heard that you are lost and want to find a magic caster so they can help you get back home..." the girl stated with sincere directness, but was immediately interrupted by the headman:
"Enri, you must not speak so disrespectfully to our guest. Discussing rumors is unseemly!"
"But I only wanted to help," the peasant girl said, blinking her blue eyes. Before the man could reply, she turned back to me: "Forgive me, Zellos-san, if I offended you in some way, but I really can help! Here," she showed the bundle, "is a little food for the road, and I also wrote a letter. My friend Nfirea lives in E-Rantel; he is an alchemist and knows many adventurers in the guild. In the letter, I asked him to help you find your way in the city and find people who can assist you. Don't doubt it—he is a very good person and will surely understand your situation!"
"Enri..." The headman was left speechless by the girl's boldness and began to look at me warily.
"Thank you," I broke the silence before it became awkward. "That is very noble of you."
"I'll explain how to find Nfirea's house!" the girl beamed. "Though it isn't hard; his grandmother's shop is very famous, almost everyone in the city knows it!" Her gaze then fell upon the still-dejected Shalltear. Unlike yesterday, Shalltear wasn't clinging to me, but I didn't let go of her hand, just to be safe. "Don't worry, everything will be fine," the naive village girl said, trying to comfort the High Undead. "You and your father will definitely find your way home."
"Here, take this!" The previously silent little girl with reddish-brown hair following Enri held out a pale pink flower to Shalltear. "Don't cry!" She smiled as only children can.
The surrealism of the scene caused another breeze through my skull. At this point, I didn't know whether to cry or prepare to save them from an enraged vampire. But what I absolutely didn't expect, and what finally finished me off, was that Shalltear submissively accepted the flower and even tried to force a grateful smile... Granted, after a few seconds, it began to look suspiciously like the smile a sweet-tooth gives their favorite cake, but it didn't change the fact that it seemed the world was out to drive me insane, not just Nazarick.
"Ahem..." The compulsive urge to clear my throat hit the reality of having no throat, which brought me back to my senses. "Say thank you, Shalltear."
"Thank you... You're sweet..." And now there was definitely the thought of a little cake in her tone. I need to save these children.
However, I didn't have time to do anything, as a sweaty man of about forty ran up to the headman. He was wearing a thick leather outfit, and the bow on his back and quiver clearly hinted at his profession: a hunter.
"Micul," oh, so I learned the headman's name, "there's some kind of dust cloud loitering on the horizon."
"Hm," the man said, distracted from our conversation. "Strange. It isn't time for traveling merchants yet, and the tax collectors won't show up until a week after harvest... Tell you what, yell to the men to be on guard, just in case. Maybe some gang has started up."
But if this is the canon world, it's no gang, but a full-scale provocation from the holy men who will commit a massacre while disguised as Imperials.
"Does this happen often here?" I asked, drawing the headman's attention back to me.
"Not really," the man said. He was a bit tense, but not exactly panicking or scared. "But things happen. Most likely, it's just a border guard unit that got word of monsters acting up in the forest and is rushing to restore order. Still, I wouldn't advise you to leave the village right now, Lord Zellos—just in case..." Micul's simple trick was quite obvious. If it was their own men, the mage would make contact, and it would no longer be the headman's problem—maybe the administration would even give him something for the hospitality shown to a sorcerer. And if they were hostiles—having a wizard nearby who plays with spatial rifts is much better than not having one. A perfectly sound move.
"Why not? In my current situation, an extra half-hour won't make a difference. We'll wait."
"Shall I bring you some fruit drink? It's a hot day today..."
"Shalltear?" The vampiress shrugged. She wasn't in the mood for drinks; she had already struck up a "conversation about nothing" with the cake—erm, the little girl. Apparently, even a monster occasionally wants to hear a kind word from someone cute and restless. Or she had picked out her lunch, yeah. Nevertheless, our silence was taken as consent, and the headman's wife brought out a frosted pitcher of berry drink, likely straight from the cellar. I felt like giving a heavy sigh again. I wouldn't mind a glass of juice... not to mention everything else, but... no such luck.
The Guardian of the first levels of Nazarick looked at me studying the pitcher, then at the pitcher itself, and winced ever so slightly again. Meanwhile, the kind woman was already pouring the drink into clay mugs.
"Um... Lord Zellos?" I was handed the cup.
"I don't care for any right now, and... you shouldn't see my face. Not all magical experiments end with merely mixed-up coordinates." The people pondered this, then looked at the girl who was now staring at me with insanely sad eyes, and "understood" everything perfectly. Thus, we all waited for the guests' arrival in a somewhat awkward silence. But then the cavalcade appeared at the far end of the street. The people looked closer and began to panic in the most natural way.
"Holy Gods... Imperials! To the forest, everyone!" But the cry came far too late—the "gallant knights" had already managed to gallop up to the peasants standing at the edge. A swing, and...
"Aaaaagggghhh!" The "warrior" who took a simple Acid Arrow to the face fell from his horse and was now howling piteously, rolling on the ground. He went silent surprisingly quickly, though. Another "knight" was caught by a Lightning Bolt—he didn't howl, but simply and respectably died on the spot.
Hm... I had just, in my right mind and sound memory, killed two people. Should I feel troubled by this? There was no response. Nothing at all. Not even surprise that a warrior from a sabotage unit—who should by default not be mere fodder—had ended so easily from a basic first-tier spell.
"Shalltear, dear, demonstrate Mass Paralysis for me, if you would be so kind," I said, turning to the vampiress, who was observing the invasion with an indescribable mix of curiosity and contempt.
A snap of her delicate fingers—and everything froze. Horses, men, even dogs and chickens stood still in their tracks. A few unlucky ones fell from their saddles due to momentum and froze on the ground in utterly ridiculous poses. I looked around.
"Hm... I actually meant just those knights..."
"Oh, forgive me, otosan, I misunderstood your wish," she replied. But judging by the satisfaction in her voice, she simply wanted to demonstrate how wonderful and strong she was. No matter how much the realization of my "problem" had affected her, her monster instincts hadn't gone anywhere. And, truth be told, seeing the vampiress like this was much more pleasant to me than what I had witnessed last night. Another snap of her fingers—and everyone except the knights unfroze. The villagers were in a stupor, but they think fast on the border. Look at them, already rushing to get as far away as possible from the stationary enemy warriors (and from Shalltear and me as well), watching cautiously from a distance.
"Micul."
"Yes, Your Grace?" The headman appeared instantly.
"Something tells me these aren't your warriors."
"Correct—those soldiers have the crest of the Baharuth Empire on their shields! But how did they pass E-Rantel?.. Oh, what am I saying?! Thank you, my lord. If not for you, it would have gone badly for us! We can more or less fight off bandits, but against real warriors, we don't even have weapons." Well, the last doubts had vanished. This was the world of the canon.
"Fine, but what do you suggest doing with them?"
"Why even think about it? They are your prisoners; you decide. Otherwise... well, we would strip them, bind them, and send one of our men to the city—let His Majesty's troops come and deal with them themselves." The headman tried to sound brave, but his sweaty brow and quick, nervous glances at the captives showed the man was quite shaken. In fact, he was terrified and was only answering my questions through sheer willpower.
"I see..." I turned my gaze to the warrior dressed in the richest armor. "I want to ask them a couple of questions... Take the children away. They have absolutely no need to see this."
"It shall be done." A couple of shouts and one roar, and the women led the children off the street. They even started to approach my vampiress, but she just waved her hand irritably. No one insisted. And so, once the square was empty, I asked my "daughter" to lift the paralysis from the leader.
"So, you have two paths. You tell us why you are here and what your further objectives are, after which you become a valuable prisoner and perhaps even get handed over to the local authorities. Otherwise, you will be raw material."
"I'll tell you nothing, you foul warlock!" Hm, brave. Stupid, but brave.
"The second option, then... let's see." What should I try on him? As I understood it, the local fighters had neither magical protection nor magical resistance...
For a moment I froze, realizing that I was seriously planning to use a living person for experiments right there on the street. Granted, he wasn't exactly a decent person, but still. I was looking at him now the same way I used to look at defective circuit boards—even my thoughts were almost the same: "Is it worth bothering with desoldering or just straight to the scrap heap?" Hm... again, nothing stirred within me, and I saw nothing wrong with it. They wanted to break my future property, so using them for experiments was a fine idea. And from a purely moral standpoint—they came here to pillage and kill, and to commit the other atrocities that a mob of unrestrained armed men commit in enemy territory. That being the case, killing them was an entirely good and right deed, even by my original standards, without any lich nature...
"Create Middle Undead." A drop of Darkness flew from my finger toward the "faceless" corpse from the acid arrow. As it flew, it grew larger, and a sizable blot hit the body, merging into it. Then... the corpse began to writhe and melt like wax under heat.
Ten seconds later, and in place of an "average" warrior standing 1.8 meters tall, there rose a three-meter skeleton draped in "withered" muscle and skin, giving it a dark brown hue. It was armed with a monstrous-looking sword and an equally monstrous shield; its skull-head wore a horrific helmet, and its dark armor was hidden by a tattered black shroud-cloak. A level 35 Death Knight in all its terrifying glory. The mana cost for the creation was a bit higher than it should have been, and the Knight rose specifically from a corpse rather than appearing out of thin air, but... I felt no drain to maintain it in the world of the living. This meant the unit was autonomous, or at least capable of lasting some time without replenishment. And all the control links remained. Mentally shrugging, I raised the second corpse into a similarly gallant warrior and gave the first command.
"Strip that body. There might be something valuable on it... and I've long wanted to check what kind of undead results from raising them directly from the living."
The Knights set to work. And very "professionally" at that. One held the howling victim, while the other nimbly stripped him. Not even a minute had passed before an entirely naked man was thrashing, whimpering, in the truly deathly grip of the knights. Also, excuse the details, but he had wet and soiled himself—no wonder Shalltear was wrinkling her nose. With a vampire's sensitive sense of smell, it was especially unpleasant for her.
"S-stop! Please, no! I'll tell you anything you want! We were sent by the Slane Theocracy! We..." In short, the main problem now was shutting off the source of information rather than squeezing anything out of it. Micul, by the way, had stayed next to us the whole time. He was pale, his knees were shaking, but he listened to the talker steadfastly and attentively. A tough man; in his place, I would have been long gone from the village, outrunning my own screams.
The prisoner revealed many interesting things. First, this wasn't the first ruined village on their path. Second, they were pursuing two goals: not just to escalate the conflict between the Kingdom and the Empire—that was simple: kill everyone, "miss" a survivor or two, and move on; the peasants would do the rest for you. No, their task was also to lure out a certain Gazef Stronoff—the King's personal bodyguard and, by general consensus, the strongest warrior in the Kingdom. When asked how such a man could turn up in this backwater, the prisoner didn't know the answer. He had only been told that Stronoff must arrive and that the information was solid. As he revealed then, based on his own guesses, Stronoff had likely been set up by one of the Slane Theocracy's secret allies at the court of Ramposa III—the local king. Whatever the case, according to the plan, they were to set an ambush for him and take him down. The hit, by the way, was planned for this very village or its outskirts using a second, far more formidable unit. Ideally, the victim was to be caught between a rock and a hard place. Simple and effective, what more can you say.
"Hm." silencing the prisoner with a muting spell once he started repeating the same thing for the third time, I turned to the village headman. "I must admit, I didn't plan on interfering in the internal affairs of your state, but no matter how I act now, I will be dragged into this regardless. Tell me, what do you know of this Gazef Stronoff?"
"I know little, my lord," the man said, wiping his sweaty brow. "They say he is an honorable man who was born a peasant and achieved everything through his own strength. Once, he won a great royal tournament, and then the King himself made him his bodyguard. That is all I know, my lord."
"I see..." I glanced at Shalltear, who was looking at the naked human with disgust. Notably, she still hadn't let the gift flower out of her hand. "Well then, bind them and lock them in a cellar from which they cannot escape."
"And then?" the man risked showing some curiosity.
"And then we shall wait for this Stronoff, or perhaps the second enemy squad."
"Might it not be better for the people to hide in the forest?"
"I think not. If this is a trap, then an ambush will be waiting for you in the woods. It would be better to gather all the women and children in one place—I shall cast protective spells so the battle does not touch you, should the village be attacked after all."
"Please, accept our deepest gratitude, Zellos-sama! You are our savior!" The village chief, followed by the other observing peasants, bent their backs in a deep bow.
"No need for words, just hurry with the prisoners." First bows in Nazarick, and now here... I shouldn't get used to this; otherwise, God forbid, I might actually start believing in my own exceptionalism, and then whoever tossed me here might decide I've grown too arrogant—and I'll wake up as a galley slave.
The prisoners offered almost no resistance. They were beyond relieved to leave the company of the Death Knights, so much so that some were even willing to help remove their own equipment. Yet I couldn't get the thought of my vampiress out of my head. Specifically, that her canonical encounter with the brainwashers was somehow connected to today's events. That squad was heading somewhere, ready to use its trump card, and things like that don't happen out of the blue. Where could they have been going in such relative proximity to Nazarick? According to the canon, there was nothing noteworthy in the area and everything revolved around Momonga, but even then, nothing had been encountered that required resources like a power capable of piercing the absolute mental immunity of a Floor Guardian. This meant they were on the trail of Nazarick itself. And where had Nazarick revealed itself by that point? Only in the defense of this village and the destruction of the Slane Theocracy's diversionary units. Which, in turn, meant...
"Message"... I touch my temple in the gesture used to open a chat with another player. If memory served, this function remained in the New World, having transformed into something like a magical link via a spell.
"Albedo..." A certain magical action indeed surfaced in my reflexes, remembered in a familiar way, like a half-forgotten skill.
"Y-yes! Momonga-sama!" An excited reply came back after a few seconds.
"Scout the surroundings. There should be a second squad with magic casters nearby."
"..." Silence hung on the other side, but it didn't last long. "You are correct. A large group of humans is hiding in the forest to the northwest of the village. Shall I eliminate them?" she inquired in a businesslike tone after her report.
"No. If I am right, they are being monitored remotely. I am activating defense now, so the Mirror of Remote Viewing will cease to function. Your task is to raise Nazarick's security level. See to it that it cannot be detected by magical means. That is all; I will contact you if anything goes wrong."
"Take care of yourself, Momonga-sama!" the girl managed to wish before I disconnected.
"Anti-Detection," "Astral Sealing," "Alignment Hiding," "Observation Blocking," "Anti-Teleportation Barrier"... That should be enough for now. I already feel like I've overdone it by two orders of magnitude. As I recall, even the third tier of magic is considered incredibly powerful here...
"Zellos-sama?" The vampiress, having noticed something, looked at me with questioning eyes.
"Come, Shalltear. We must prepare to greet our guests..."
A few days prior. The southern border of the Re-Estize Kingdom.
The cavalry unit moved at a trot, mercilessly spurring their horses. The goal was near; the tracks on the ground were still fresh, the grass not even having fully straightened in some places. They just had to push a little further...
"Captain Gazef!" A young lieutenant pulled up beside a broad-shouldered man, seemingly in his late thirties or early forties, and nodded toward the smoke rising above the trees. The unit commander gritted his teeth and redirected the group with a short nod. He knew what that smoke meant. He knew it all too well. Another ravaged village lay ahead.
"You know what to do." When the cavalcade reached the ruins of what had recently been a border village, the man dismounted and approached the very edge of the settlement. Two more steps, and he would have been met by a sturdy wooden fence entwined with vines. Before. Now—only ruins and still-smoldering embers. Whoever had done this, it happened recently—ten or twelve hours ago, no more. Wooden houses burn fast, especially when aided by lamp oil or magic. They could still overtake the attackers, but the Captain knew there were still people alive under the rubble. A choice, yet another choice. Save half an hour of time or save a dozen lives? But what if those thirty minutes cost hundreds of lives in the next village? The territory was too large. And he had been given too few soldiers. And yet... Gazef knew for certain that he couldn't just ride past. Neither could his men, who were already hastily treating the wounds of the first lucky few they managed to pull from the ashes.
"Is this all the Empire's doing?" his second-in-command asked, approaching from behind. "Or perhaps..."
"Lieutenant, take a portion of the warriors and escort the survivors back to E-Rantel," Gazef interrupted. He knew his neighbors too well to believe in such an audacious yet careless attack. Furthermore, the fact that the capital knew about the raids almost before they began, yet had allocated him a laughably small number of soldiers... it could only mean one thing. But... it didn't matter. What mattered more was that this boy didn't have to die with him.
"Captain, the King ordered us to find those attacking the villagers at the kingdom's borders and destroy them."
"Correct." This time, the warrior couldn't suppress a somber smile.
"But if the Baharuth knights are truly behind this, then only fifty soldiers sent on this mission..."
"It is a secret mission," Gazef replied, more sharply than intended. But his lieutenant was no fool, much to Stronoff's occasional regret.
"The nobles are behind this, aren't they?" the question followed, and the Kingdom's Warrior Captain turned fully to face the lieutenant. "Even among the King's inner circle, there are those who believe the defeat of His Majesty's trusted warriors can be used for their own ends." The vice-captain stood tall, looking his commander straight in the eye. "How petty..."
"That's enough." Though Gazef believed in his men, still... one shouldn't tempt fate unnecessarily. The lad had already said enough to merit the executioner's axe, or at the very least, exile to the furthest, most desolate province of the kingdom.
"You understand this perfectly well yourself, Captain!" The lieutenant couldn't help but raise his voice. "It is obviously a trap! Instead of splitting our forces here, we should all simply return to E-Rantel. It would be tragic to lose the villagers, but the death of the kingdom's greatest warrior would be a true catastrophe!" The boy spoke the truth. Right words, right logic. Sacrifice the few to preserve the many. The warrior huffed and turned back toward the ruins.
"I am not a noble by blood..."
"Neither am I!"
"Life in a border village is a life on the edge of death. It wasn't unusual for us to be attacked by monsters..." No matter what form they took.
"Yes..." The young man lowered his eyes slightly, clearly understanding what his commander meant.
"But didn't you hope that powerful nobles or adventurers would save you, would come to your aid?"
"I won't lie," the lieutenant replied quietly. "I hoped, but no one ever appeared."
"Then," Gazef turned away from the ashes, facing the lieutenant once more, and looked him in the eye, "let us be the ones who appear."
"Ah..." The boy's mouth literally fell open in surprise.
"Let us show these people, who are familiar with danger and constantly risk their lives... let us show them powerful men who have come to help!"
"This is suicide, Captain," the lieutenant said, not breaking eye contact.
"We are not going there to die," Gazef replied firmly, mounting his horse. "We are going to save the citizens of our kingdom."
"...I understand." His deputy bowed his head, and the Kingdom's Warrior Captain spurred his horse. A trap awaited them ahead. And the inhabitants of Carne, to whom help would finally come... provided it wasn't too late.
Carne Village
A thick cloud of dust rose above the cavalry unit. The riders were clearly showing no mercy to their horses, rushing to reach the village even at the risk of the animals collapsing. This was unlike the previous squad; those had ridden in satiated and calm, while these raced as if to a fire. Furthermore, the armor of the previous group had been uniform, with crests and insignia visible everywhere, while this looked like a band of mercenaries, each armed according to his own purse. Totaling about fifty men, most didn't even have chainmail—only bracers, helmets, and cuirasses barely covering the most vulnerable parts of the body.
A large man with a short beard and sideburns rode at the front. There was no doubt he saw the Death Knights near me perfectly well, but it didn't make him slow his pace. Internally, I praised myself for having asked the village chief, his wife, and a few volunteers not to scatter and to meet the guests with me; it might have been awkward if this Gazef, seeing only undead and a suspicious robed figure, had tried to attack me on the charge. The move proved correct when, even twenty meters away from us, not a single rider made an attempt to draw his sword.
"I am the Captain of the Re-Estize Royal Guard, Gazef Stronoff." The lead rider introduced himself after reining in his whinnying horse directly in front of us. His voice was strong and wary, but without a trace of arrogance or fear. The man's eyes scrutinized the undead I had raised, slid over me and Shalltear, and lingered on the faces of the peasants. "I have orders to destroy the Baharuth Empire knights who have been sowing devastation in this region. You must be the headman of this village," he said, unerringly locking eyes with Mikul. "What are these creatures and the people beside you?"
"This man..." the villager hesitated slightly. "Lord Zellos and his daughter saved us from the attack of the knights you speak of. He is a powerful magic caster and a kind man... Er... If not for him, our village would be nothing but ashes now." The village chief fell silent, apparently having exhausted his prepared words.
"Is that so?" A new look appeared in Stronoff's eyes, and looking at me once more, he immediately leaped from his horse and stepped closer. "If that is the case, thank you for this!" The Captain, showing no disdain, leaned into a respectful bow. "Words cannot express my gratitude for your assistance."
"Think nothing of it." He truly is a brave man. Looking at his men, frozen tensely in their saddles and unable to take their eyes off the massive figures of the Death Knights, it wasn't hard to imagine what a normal reaction should be. Yet he didn't just deprive himself of maneuverability by dismounting; he bowed his head, voluntarily cutting off his own line of sight. He surely must understand that I could be a hidden enemy just waiting for his blunder, yet he does it anyway. He is either truly courageous or... No, a man with eyes like that couldn't be a fool. "These people showed me hospitality and did not refuse help in a difficult situation. I believe knights say something like: my honor would not permit me to stand aside in such cases. But allow me to introduce ourselves properly: my name is Zellos, and this is Shalltear, my daughter. It so happened that as a result of a failed experiment with space-time magic and an anomaly that arose during it, we found ourselves quite far from home. As I have already learned, the surrounding lands are extremely distant from our former residence—so far, in fact, that I have never even heard of your country. Therefore, I ask you to forgive me in advance if I unintentionally violate any of your customs."
"Oh..." Gazef did not hide his surprise. "That is most unusual, Lord Zellos. But your skills are indeed unlike anything I have seen." The warrior glanced at the Death Knights again. "As Captain of the Royal Guard, I promise to provide you with any assistance necessary in finding your way home; it is the least I can do since you saved these people."
"Ahem... Regarding that," I turned to the headman. "I managed to take most of the attackers alive, and their commander revealed there is another, more powerful squad. According to him, the destruction of border villages is only a secondary objective; the main goal is your capture."
"You took them prisoner?" Gazef didn't believe it immediately.
"Yes, you may interrogate them yourself. At my request, the locals have bound them and locked them in one of the cellars."
"Captain!" a shout from one of the soldiers in the back rows rang across the village square before the man could respond. "Captain!" he repeated, actively pushing through to us. "The rearguard has spotted a large group of unknowns; they are surrounding the village. It looks like the enemy! They have angels with them!"
"Hm?" Shalltear and I made the sound simultaneously.
"Assume defensive positions immediately!" Stronoff commanded in a powerful voice that instantly swept across the square. "Headman, hide the people in a safe place! Lord Zellos..." The warrior looked at me intently.
"You can count on me."
The man nodded gratefully and set about organizing his men. Within minutes, all entrances to the village were blocked. Some men dismounted, setting up ambushes between the houses; some led the horses away and prepared to act as a reserve force. Meanwhile, the Captain and I moved to one of the outermost buildings, from whose windows the village field—where the enemy had already deployed—was clearly visible.
They looked quite impressive. Identical robes without gaudy flamboyance, hidden faces, a coordination obvious to the naked eye, and Archangel Flames hovering in the air. Despite the pretentious name, they were fairly weak creatures, summoned by a mere third-tier spell. That had been the case in Yggdrasil, but here they were clearly rated on the level of heavy tanks or even attack helicopters, and they looked solid enough... But I still felt like rubbing my non-existent eyes, because these obsessive Japanese couldn't even manage a fantasy setting without their beloved giant humanoid robots. In the manga panels, it didn't jump out at you, but in reality, hovering over the heads of the enemy casters were actual "Lancelots" from something like Code Geass, or whatever those sleek white Nightmares were called. Slightly smaller in size, with more angular lines and halos over their heads, but damn it, they were literal anime mechs!
"Zellos-oto-san..." purred the vampiress, whom I had almost forgotten but was still holding firmly by the hand.
"Shh!" I placed a finger to my mask where my lips should be. She might want to say something useful, but I could see in her eyes it was more likely to be "Allow me to crush these insects."
"Yes, you were right; the squad is quite strong," Gazef admitted, also observing the new adversary from the window.
"They have surrounded the village at equal intervals," reported a soldier entering the room.
"Hmm, no fewer than sixty casters," I did a quick mental count, estimating the number based on the distance between individual mages. "Is this normal in your lands?"
"Unfortunately, no," Stronoff replied. "Only the Slane Theocracy can afford to send such a number of casters at once. And most likely, these are soldiers of a special unit that answers only to the High Priest. I have heard they have an organization called the Six Scriptures for special missions..."
"It seems you have quite a few enemies, Captain."
"Indeed, I am in great trouble," the man chuckled humorlessly. "I didn't think even the Slane Theocracy would hunt me... Sir Zellos," Gazef turned from the window and looked me in the eye, "may I hire you? Rest assured, you shall have whatever you desire."
"Do not take this as rudeness, but it is not within your power to give me what I want. However..." Down, Shalltear! Stay quiet! No snide remarks! "I have already said you can count on my help."
"My thanks," the man bowed his head.
"It is early yet... But let us discuss a plan."
"Agreed."
"It would be unwise to meet them in the village; your cavalry is cramped here, and I have no room for offensive magic. It would be best to force a battle on that field." I look out the window. "But if their commander is no fool, he won't lift the perimeter even if we step forward."
"They want me," Stronoff mirrored my gesture, staring at the line of enemies on the meadow. "If I make it look like I'm attempting a breakthrough, they will be forced to consolidate their forces to keep my unit from escaping."
"Perhaps..." I agree, recalling the manga pages. "Very well; if it works, we won't have to chase stragglers across the countryside."
"Can you handle sixty casters?" A clear skepticism sounded in the warrior's voice. It seemed he wasn't imagining victory so much as the possibility of a breakthrough and drawing the enemy away from the village.
The vampire's palm twitched, nearly escaping my grip. Down, Shalltear! Heel! Bad True Vampire! Phew, held her...
"It would be rash of me to say anything for certain; after all, I haven't yet had the chance to compare your school of magic with the tradition to which I belong. But those creatures are familiar to me." I nod toward the Archangel Flames. "So, if everything else in their arsenal is at roughly the same level, then I shall manage." Calculated modesty is a useful quality for building a positive reputation, as proven by Ciaphas Cain. And I have to maintain the legend, for how should I know the capabilities of local sorcerers?
"Very well," Gazef nodded. It was clear he didn't believe me, but at the same time, he understood he had no choice and I was offering "at least some plan." "Then I shall lure them toward me with my men, and you..."
"That is unnecessary," I interrupt the warrior none too politely. "I can cast illusionary spells on my Death Knights. They are heavy enough to create the necessary tremors in the ground and can run nearly as fast as a horse. Let the undead take the first blows, and we will act based on what we see."
"Necromancy..." Stronoff kept his face stony and calm.
"You do not approve?" I was genuinely interested in hearing this man's opinion.
"I do not understand it," he admitted calmly. "I have never heard anything good about necromancers, but you, Master Zellos, are a worthy man who came to help those in need, even though there is truly little profit in it for you."
"Lord Zellos is the greatest mage the world has ever seen!" The Guardian of the first three floors of Nazarick couldn't withstand "insulting doubts about her master."
"Shalltear..." My free hand rested on my mask. Gazef was clearly interested in our strange relationship. The use of "Lord" didn't exactly fit the image of a normal father-daughter dynamic. But the Captain refrained from questions; he likely decided it didn't matter where we came from or what traditions we held. "Anyway, let us leave that. The Death Knights will serve as a ram. They are sturdy enough that I believe they will give us sufficient time to assess the enemy's capabilities. I suggest hiding the rest of the unit with an invisibility sphere; that way we can observe and approach to the optimal striking distance. Do you have any objections?"
"None at all," Stronoff smiled friendly. "What you are proposing is far more than I had hoped for."
"I can go through the flanks and take a few sorcerers alive," Shalltear suddenly suggested, breaking into a sweet yet mischievous smile, revealing neat but very sharp fangs. I suspect not all will be taken alive...
"Are you sure you can take them alive?" I emphasize the keyword. Judging by Gazef's look, he thought we were discussing how difficult it is to defeat an enemy without killing them and that a child might not handle it, even if she believed in herself. Shalltear, however, understood perfectly.
"Of course, Zellos-oto-san," the terrifying little monster drawled in a velvet voice, turning on the "angel" act. It looked convincing, but... my inner Stanislavski screamed "I don't believe it!" at the top of his lungs.
I thought for a second, then gave a permitting nod, releasing the vampiress's hand. The girl needed to blow off some steam, and one or two extra rank-and-file sorcerers wouldn't make a difference to me; only the commander knows anything truly valuable anyway.
Once freed, Shalltear practically beamed, gave a curtsy, and nearly teleported away, moving at her usual speed.
"Is this wise, Lord Zellos?" the warrior asked after all. "Sending a child..."
"My adopted daughter." I should probably label her as such. Even though we had our talk, my non-existent gut tells me the traits written into her are much stronger than a single conversation, and with her temperament... In short, I don't need extra trouble with the locals. If "a student in love with her teacher whom he cared for since early childhood and considers his daughter" is a romantic and, most importantly, understandable image for the locals, then "a pair of insane perverts capable of slaughtering armies" would cause unnecessary nerves. And why do I need extra problems out of nowhere? Even small ones... "She is a mage," I shrug. "She will handle it."
"If you say so." My words didn't quite convince Stronoff, but he didn't argue. "I will order the men to gather in the square. How much time do you need to create the illusions?"
"Not long. Let us go..."
A few minutes later, we stood in the center of the village. Calling my creations over, I laid the images of Gazef and his men upon them. The actual men grew agitated, but the Captain quickly called for silence. Another gesture surrounded the real Re-Estize army unit with an Invisibility Sphere spell, and then I gave the command to the Knights.
The tight cavalry formation galloped down the road toward the field designated as the stage. The ground didn't shake quite naturally—it's hard for four legs to substitute for two hundred hooves—and the dust cloud wasn't quite right, but to an uncritical eye, the picture looked plausible. Not much was required of it, anyway, just to hold out for five minutes and deceive the enemies for that long.
"It is time for us as well." I step under the invisibility sphere and meet the eyes of Stronoff, who had already leaped into his saddle. "But do not rush—I can hide forms and sounds, but pinning down a dust cloud is much more difficult."
"I understand, Sir Zellos!" the warrior nodded, and commanded his men: "Forward..."
Meanwhile, a "drama" was unfolding on the field. The "Re-Estize warriors" attempting a breakthrough charged directly at the casters and their angels, who were waiting for just that. While the riders were still "accelerating," the flying creatures had already transported their summoners from the perimeter exactly to the point of the breakthrough. The commander appeared as well; he was easily distinguished by the "Principality of Observation" hovering beside him—an angel summoned by a fourth-tier spell. This one looked more like an angel in the classical sense, at least it had a long robe covering its legs, a mace, and a round shield depicting the sun, but otherwise, it was still a literal anime "mech."
By the way, wasn't that brainwashing artifact intended for Gazef? And what if it's here right now?
A cold chill ran through my insides until the breeze in my skull blew the emotions away again. Yes, right. A foolish thought. It doesn't align by time or action. If the goal were to capture the Captain of the Royal Guard, the commander of the first squad would have known, but his task was to kill. And these... No, they don't look like the folks Shalltear ran into—there were women there, but none here. Whatever was happening behind the scenes, this squad was clearly the canonical one—the very one Momonga morally humiliated after cowardly using Gazef in the role I had assigned to the dumb undead. So, away with the worry; nothing will happen to me here, just as nothing happened to Shalltear in that forest...
While I was musing, my undead reached the first angels. A theatrical swing of a flaming sword, and... the unit's illusion dissipated, leaving behind two ten-foot monsters who began actively swinging their iron. The first angels were dispelled in seconds, and the enemy mages were thrown into confusion, but not for long. The leader shouted something, and clusters of attacking and slowing spells flew at the undead, while the Archangel Flames circling in the air began to attack simultaneously.
"They are holding... Incredible," Gazef commented on the sight of the fighting undead, though I didn't share his enthusiasm. Death Knights are level thirty-five, but because they were raised by an Overlord, they can be viewed as level sixty or even seventy based on the sum of their stats. Together, they had a decent chance of carving through this whole crowd... or they would have, were it not for the fact that even the weakest angels deal additional Light and Holy damage with their attacks, which undead very much dislike. Add to that fire, against which undead also have a weakness, and a hail of spells from sixty third-tier casters...
"Bane, Binding, Fire Whip, Iron Hammer of Justice, Holy Ray, Poison, Sonic Blast, Open Wounds, Stun, Blindness, Acid Arrow..." I recited what I saw for the men around me. "I know all these spells." I turn to face Stronoff. "I think we can move out. Do you trust your lieutenant?"
"Of course. Why ask such a thing?" the man frowned.
"Then, if I may..." I step forward and turn toward the unit. "Mass Armor." A yellowish glow enveloped the men and horses for a second, as well as myself. "Mass Weapon Enhancement." All scabbards turned crimson. "Mass Critical Hit." Blue light. "Mass Bull's Strength... Cat's Grace... Haste... Protection from Elements... General Resistance." The sequence of shifting colors ceased, and I lowered my hand with satisfaction. There were no misfires; the entire arsenal of buffs had activated normally.
"You truly are a powerful mage," the Captain stated. "I know of no one who could cast protective spells on so many people at once, and so many of them."
"Hmm..." I was tempted to reply something like "that's unfortunate, as it means no one here can help me," but after a thought, I dismissed it. Even in maintaining a legend, one must observe moderation. Instead, I changed the subject: "Before you attack, I would like to meet these mages personally. My charms will last for about a day, so do not worry about the time."
"Are you certain?" Stronoff frowned.
"Yes. I have already assessed their level."
"Then I am going with you."
"That is exactly why I asked if you trust your lieutenant. If something goes wrong, he will have to choose the time for the attack."
"He will manage," the warrior replied firmly, not even glancing at his subordinate.
"Then let us hurry—they have nearly finished off my servants..."
"Vile creatures." The unit leader was seething with toxic malice, watching as the already battered undead hacked down another Archangel Flame. The man was clearly afraid, but he was quite capable of controlling his fear. "Summon more angels!" he shouted to his subordinates. "Concentrate attacks on the left one!"
Another twenty Archangel Flames rose from shining summoning circles and rushed the Death Knights. Fire and holy spells poured down like rain, and no matter how formidable the undead seemed, they slowly yielded under the pressure of the attackers. First one, and then the second black giant collapsed, pierced by flaming swords, but joy didn't have time to overtake the men.
"Send out patrols!" a short-haired, fair-haired man with colorless eyes screamed, his voice nearly cracking. "Find Gazef Stronoff! He couldn't have gone far, even if his unit had a mage with an artifact to summon such beasts!"
"Sir, they surely left the village from the other side; we won't catch them now, especially if their sorcerer can create such illusions," one of the men with a covered face attempted to protest.
"Silence! Use the angels—an illusion cannot be maintained forever! And burn this village! Kill every peasant you find!"
"How lovely." The invisibility drops from me, and Gazef attracts attention by stepping forward a few paces.
"Dishonorable cowards!"
"Oh, Captain," the priest smirked, the fear he had experienced clearly demanding an outlet. "But who is this beside you? Have we found a godless warlock as well?"
"Hmm... in the context of everything happening, that sounded as if, should I agree to work for you, I would suddenly become a 'holy devotee'." Mimicking a sneer with the voice of a lich, which doesn't exactly shine with emotion, was quite difficult.
"Who knows," the unit leader basked in his superiority over the "defeated." "Perhaps if you ask me properly, tell me where you got the artifact, and also make a donation to the Theocracy..." I'm almost in awe of his gall.
"You are a poor liar," I had to admit, seeing how his face glistened with self-satisfaction. "Likely why you are still on the dirty work—the limited nature of your talents prevents you from rising higher."
"The two of you will pay dearly for your stupidity," the man promised, a muscle in his cheek twitching as the mask of self-satisfaction slipped slightly after my words. "You should have run while you had the chance, but you, Stronoff, apparently decided to save your men while you covered the retreat. Stupidity..." he said, spitting the word out. "Unpardonable ignorance!"
"Stay behind me, Lord Zellos! I will try to win time for your spellcasting," the warrior resolved, stepping in front of me as if preparing to either Overcome or Die Heroically.
"That is unnecessary." I place a hand on his shoulder, respectfully but firmly returning him to his previous spot. "You are a fourth-tier mage, correct?" I turn my face back to our talkative opponent.
"What?"
"The fourth tier is quite significant. You are no longer a careless neophyte making three mistakes in a simple trick, nor a useless support ballast that won't step into the forest without an escort. The fourth tier represents a fully independent mage, capable of winning without outside help and providing for themselves in any hole in the ground."
"If you think your flattery—"
"Flattery? No. I simply cannot understand..." I trail off.
"What?" He really is quite the chatterbox. Or is that a property of an anime universe? I'll have to ponder that thought.
"How an experienced mage can fail to ask why I came if I had zero chance of victory. Wouldn't it have been more logical for us to actually keep the invisibility up and retreat? Yet here I am before you. Does that not concern you?" I was curious to understand his logic. One way or another, I have to work with the locals, and understanding their thinking is vital. A different mentality means a different logic.
"What nonsense?! Why are you asking these stupid questions?! No one can maintain invisibility for more than a couple of minutes! The fact that you got this close to us at all is an achievement! Enough of your rambling! I will not listen to this rubbish any longer! You two fools gave my subordinates time to recover, and now you shall die for your ignorance and stupidity! Angels! Attack!"
Steel flashed beside me, and from the corner of my eye, I saw Gazef drop into a half-crouch, taking a combat stance, but no—overcoming against all odds is canceled today.
"Lesser Banishment." A simple gesture, and all the summoned creatures rushing toward us were simply swept out of reality. Only a thin layer of rapidly fading glowing dust and the frozen, stupified enemy wizards bore witness to the fact that an impressive squad of the Host of Heaven had been here moments ago... Well, impressive for a low-level location. "Sir Stronoff, I am not yet finished with my inquiry, so would you mind lowering your sword? I would be most grateful."
"Hmph." It seemed only now did the warrior believe my words; at least, along with the grunt, a truly genuine smile appeared on his face. "You are mistaken, Master Zellos. I was knighted from the common folk, so I am no 'Sir.' And you may simply call me Gazef."
"In that case, you must call me by my name as well. But I still insist that you lower your sword."
"Yes..." The man looked at his right hand gripping the hilt. "That would be wise..."
"Im... Impossible!" The talkative zealot snapped back to his senses. "What are you standing around for?! Attack him! Attack with everything you have!"
The authoritative roar worked flawlessly, jolting the subordinates out of their trance. Familiar Fire Bolts, Holy Strikes, and various Poisons came flying at me. Some of the casters even tried to inflict Curses. To be honest, watching a wall of offensive spells hurtling toward your face is somewhat uncomfortable. Although memory insisted they could not harm me, I barely restrained myself from conjuring a shield. This was important. To test the functionality of the defenses I was supposed to have, right here, under field conditions against a known enemy. Even if everything matched, even if everything seemed clear in advance... I am not Momonga. Not Suzuki Satoru. That meant there was already one difference from the canon! And where there is one, there may be others. What if all the firepower transferred over, but not the protection? If I noticed nothing while things were calm, only to discover in a critical moment that I was a "glass cannon"? No, testing was necessary. And it was best to do it like this—with locals ready to support me and Shalltear nearby to pull me out of any mess, even if I took damage to the point of being "barely alive."
The appearance of the mental breeze coincided with the spells' arrival, and they broke helplessly just centimeters from my body, not even touching the fabric of my robe. Had I exhaled, they probably would have heard it back in Nazarick.
"Y-you monster," the enemy leader gasped, seeing the complete impotence of his servants. "K-kill him, Principality of Observation!"
The large angel lunged toward me, raising a mace that flared with a yellow radiance. Now to test physical resistance...
The thunder of the collision between the magical weapon and my palm generated a small gust of wind. Damn... This body's physical stats were truly pushed to the cap; I didn't even feel like my hand could be moved. It felt as if a ribbed ball had simply landed in an open palm...
"How strange..." In my hands, a spell for such a monster could have wounded even a level-one-hundred player. "Hellfire." A tiny petal of crimson fire flickered from the index finger of my free hand, and in the next second, the angel was scattered as ash.
"Oh... oh..." Stronoff seemed to have lost the power of speech.
"One... hit..." came a whisper from the Theocracy mages' positions.
"This is impossible!!!" The man's scream bore little resemblance to the fat, smug voice with which he had begun our conversation. "It is impossible for an angel of that level to be destroyed by a single spell! Just who are you?! How could you remain unnoticed until now?!!"
"C-Captain Nigun, what should we..." stammered one of the faceless casters. So I finally learned his name; it didn't even take a year.
"Protect me!" The sorcerer reached into his tunic. "If you want to live, buy me some time! I will summon a High Angel!" He pulled out a crystal cluster, identical to those found in Yggdrasil.
According to Momonga's memory, this was a direct analog to a rod or a magic wand—an item containing a specific spell, or more rarely, a group of similar ones. They were valued because they allowed even non-magical classes to use the spells contained within. It went without saying that magical classes, by obtaining a rare "Sealing Crystal" as this thing was called, could add spells from a different class to their arsenal. By contrast, ordinary wands and rods did not offer this possibility, being almost always tied to a specific class. Naturally, at the higher levels, these restrictions could be bypassed one way or another, if only by multiclassing, but not everyone was willing to do that. In short, these items had their own price niche, and it wasn't exactly cheap. Speaking specifically of this crystal... it glowed very brightly, which could mean either it contained one or two very high-level spells or it had the ability to recharge over time.
"I must admit, this man's persistence commands a certain reluctant respect," I shared my thoughts with Gazef as the crowd of Theocracy casters lined up before their leader, preparing to repel our attack.
"Ha, it seems you aren't worried at all about what they might summon," the warrior chuckled almost nonchalantly, but drops of sweat were running down his temples.
"No, I am quite curious, but..." The words I wanted to say were drowned out by Nigun's ecstatic cry:
"Behold the power of the True Miracle granted to us by the Gods! Advent of the High Angel!" Nigun squeezed the crystal cluster in his palm, thrusting it above his head. The crystal's glow began to pulse and intensify until it erupted into a flash. "Dominion Authority!!!"
A bluish light illuminated the field, and a faint, indefinable scent seemed to touch my non-existent nose. A massive figure—this time certainly deserving the title of a "Giant Humanoid Robot"—hovered in the sky, spreading a multitude of wings covered in white feathers. In its segmented white hands rested a golden staff, a white skirt descended from its waist completely hiding its legs, and a religious symbol woven of pure light hovered before its head.
"Hmm... Just as I thought."
"You were expecting this?" Stronoff glanced at me.
"I wasn't sure if it would be a seventh or eighth-tier summon. It turned out to be the seventh. A bit less than I expected, but impressive for his level."
"What are you two babbling about?!" The arrogance and overconfidence of the Scripture leader had returned with newfound strength, having briefly yielded to fear. "Tremble in terror! Yes, it is perfectly normal to tremble in terror, for you are looking upon a High Angel! I did not wish to summon it, but I have seen that you are worthy of this item's use! Do you hear me, warlock? I am glad I summoned this angel for you! Rejoice! You are so great a magic caster that I shall grant you the honor of death at the hands of a creature beyond human strength!"
"Black Hole..." I won't lie; for a split second, I wanted to experience this angel's attack myself, just as Momonga had done, but... that second passed halfway through the Slane Theocracy squad leader's ranting. Besides, I couldn't forget Shalltear, who was surely watching everything right now. If I, like Momonga, took damage, the vampiress might fly into a frenzy and turn all my potential informants about this world into bloody mincemeat before I could stop her. It would be easy for her now—"Daddy" wasn't holding her hand anymore. So, to hell with it—I had already tested my resistance.
The spell activated. A black sphere no larger than a fist appeared at the angel's chest—and the light failed. No, not like that; the world collapsed into a black-and-white spectrum, sounds vanished, the wind and the sense of gravity disappeared. It was only for a second, but it was enough. Dominion Authority's body cracked across its entire surface and collapsed into the greedy void. Another second—and nothing reminded the world that an angel had just been here; not even glowing dust remained.
"No..." Nigun fell to his knees, drained of strength, and stared into the sky. The dimmed but still glowing crystal rolled out of his hand. "Power surpassing the Demon Gods... Just who are you?"
"It is a bit late for introductions, don't you find?" I begin to walk toward the failed hero, but then the sound of breaking glass echoed in the sky. For a moment, the firmament truly seemed to crack, but the effect vanished as quickly as it had appeared, and I felt a surge of information from one of my previously cast protective spells.
"W-what was that?" the Scripture leader recoiled, still looking at the sky.
"Someone tried to place a remote observation focus over us, but my protection prevented it... Hmm..." A thought occurred to me, and I decided to voice it. "Quite a strange coincidence, considering you just used your trump card. I wouldn't be surprised if signaling charms were found in that crystal. Regardless, it doesn't matter now." I resume my approach to the man.
"W-W-Wait a second!" He shook off his stupor and began to crawl away actively. "Sir—no, Lord! We all... No, just me! If you spare me, I will give you anything you wish! I... I will easily pay you any sum! Just let me go!" His subordinates, those among them who were smarter, had already taken to their heels, but I didn't worry about that. Shalltear would diligently catch all the fugitives; there was no doubt about it. Those who remained were simply in a daze. Everything they possessed and were so proud of turned out to be utterly useless. Their power—ground down and broken, casually and carelessly. Inferior beings had seen their place in the food chain and could now only tremble and beg for mercy. This feeling... was surprisingly pleasant.
I ground my teeth, once again using an effort of will to drive away thoughts of sophisticated ways to slaughter everyone around me. I wanted to take a deep breath, but lungs were absent.
"Gazef," I pause slightly, turning to the warrior, "I must take my words back. He commands no respect." I raise my hand and point it at the casters. "Sleep..." The shouting man froze mid-word and collapsed to the ground. A faint wave of air rippled from his body, and the remaining members of the Scripture tumbled to the earth one after another. "That is that."
"You are indeed a great mage, Lord Zellos," Stronoff bowed. "Accept my gratitude once more. If there is anything you require, I am ready to offer all my strength and resources..."
"No, nothing. Although... I would like to take some of the attackers. They showed nothing of interest, but this... is surprising." I look the man in the eyes, preparing to play the role again. "I know all of their spells. The visual effects, the names, the elements of creation. All of this suggests that your school of magic should be identical to mine, but..."
"But you are stronger," the warrior guessed, picking up on my tone.
"Correct. At home, I was quite famous and respected, but nevertheless, there were many individuals at my level there. I won't say they could all defeat me in a fair duel, but judging by the reaction of these people, what we considered a fairly routine spell that any court mage is capable of causes religious awe among your sorcerers. And yet, you have no oppressive fields, and the mana capacity of the environment is no different from ours—I cast freely without feeling any issues. So why are your mages not capable of the same? I must admit, these questions are very curious, and I would very much like to resolve them."
"Hmm... I believe many mages in the kingdom will want to help you with that, but these prisoners are rightfully yours. I would only ask that, if possible, you interrogate their leader before you take him away. You will do that, won't you?"
"It would be foolish of me to do otherwise... And it seems we have already switched to 'thou,' have we not?"
"Indeed," Gazef smiled, turning toward the direction where his unit was already charging toward us, having completely broken the invisibility.
At that moment, Shalltear descended from the sky. She looked very, very pleased. She had definitely eaten someone...
"Your order is fulfilled, Zellos-oto-san," the "sweet, kind girl" said with a curtsy. "I intercepted three groups. Unfortunately, the enemy proved too weak; I did not expect a simple Blood Boil to kill them instantly."
"It's quite alright, Shalltear. You did well." I did not deny myself the pleasure of patting the head of the death machine, who almost purred. Cute.
"Ahem..." Gazef cleared his throat, still maintaining an impassive face. The man had nerves of steel; I suspect if I were in his place, I'd already be sporting white hair. "Zellos, may I inquire what you will do with the prisoners?"
"I shall transport them for interrogation and... further use in my residence."
"Residence?" Now Stronoff truly tensed up. "But I thought you found yourself in our lands due to some error in a spell and didn't know exactly where your home was?"
"Not exactly. I do not know where my previous coordinates are located relative to this new place, but my residence also transferred with me. I do not know how it is done here, but with us, successful mages often build themselves a manor somewhere in the wilderness. Usually, it is a tower or a castle, sometimes an underground labyrinth—some experiments require unchanging environmental conditions, and dungeons are best suited for that."
"Oh... I see..." The warrior rubbed his chin, and then I noticed a ring on his hand. A plain, unremarkable silver ring with an emerald... which acted as a delayed trigger for my memory. I remembered what that ring was.
Damn... I must possess this treasure, even if I have to kill Gazef, his entire unit, and the village to boot...
The thought of mass murder provoked no reaction and not even the slightest rejection. Only the realization that it shouldn't be this way sobered me up slightly.
I need to control myself better and think through my decisions twice, because I am quickly becoming a heartless monster, and not just in words, but in deeds... Nevertheless, it doesn't change the need to obtain the ring. But let's try simply buying it first, especially since I must have a considerable amount of trust with the warrior. The only question remained: should I do it honestly, or the way colonizers once bought land from the natives? Well, in the worst-case scenario, I'll wipe his memory and try again.
The thought of being able to edit a sentient being's mind just to maintain an advantageous, pleasant image... seemed quite reasonable and rational.
No, I need to get rid of this undead body too, and not even for the possibility of physical pleasures, but simply out of the fear that for the sake of curiosity, I might decide to dissect this world. Momonga was just playing the Dark Lord, though even then he reached the point of absurdity on the level of "I am evil because I am evil," committing such disgusting atrocities along the way that he surely would have gone mad had he realized them in the normal state of a decent Japanese citizen. But that's him; whereas I, purely out of engineering curiosity, might try to take this world apart into its component pieces... Brrr. Okay, first the ring, then we'll see.
While I was pondering, the men of the Re-Estize Kingdom had already arrived. They looked at me with respect and holy awe, but, thanks to discipline, they didn't rush to fall prostrate. The Captain didn't give his subordinates a chance for moral decay either and used the most reliable method of saving personnel—he assigned tasks and sent them off to work. Some went to bind the unconscious sorcerers, some went on patrol along the road, some were sent to the village, and some were dispatched to the forest to search for possible fugitives. In short, after a couple of minutes, we were once again surrounded by people actively doing things, yet effectively alone.
"Hmm..." Okay, first, let's grab Shalltear's hand. Shalltear's hand must always be held during important negotiations! There, perfect, everyone is safe now. Now... Miss True Vampire, don't make such a satisfied face! And stop devouring me with that lovestruck look! And don't press up against me, and... The breeze passed through my skull, and everything became irrelevant... To hell with it. "Captain Stronoff, what is that ring you have on your finger?" I addressed the warrior, as the moment was perfect for a change of subject.
"Hey, didn't we switch to 'thou'?" The warrior chuckled kindly, and I had to suppress the first impulse toward a free expression of thought from the Guardian of the first floors. "This?" Gazef looked down at the signet ring. "A... friend gave it to me a long time ago." The knight closed his eyes and smiled. "What about it?"
"It is magical, isn't it?"
"Correct," Stronoff admitted with a slight surprise. "It allows the wearer to surpass their limit. A very useful thing for those who wish to become strong warriors."
"May I have a look?" The most critical moment.
"Yes, please." Without hesitating and without any visible concern, the warrior pulled the jewelry from his finger and handed it to me.
"Greater Item Identification..." Hmm... So this is what it feels like to see someone driving nails with a microscope. The ring truly allowed one to surpass the limit. Specifically, the maximum available level limit. I didn't quite understand by how much, though—the Yggdrasil spell was outputting a strange set of information. It seemed to give a description of the properties but without exact numerical values, which was uncharacteristic of the artifacts I had previously tested in Nazarick. Or it described the item as magical but didn't indicate the volume of invested magical energy, which was also nonsense. In short, the piece was indeed created by a different set of rules, unrelated to the legacy of previous players who had visited this world.
"A very fascinating item. It indeed offers the chance to overcome a natural limit. For an ordinary warrior, that would be muscle strength, reaction speed, general endurance—but all that is just a pittance compared to its true potential. How should I put it..." I rolled the band between my fingers. "The true potential of this thing is only revealed in the hands of someone who has... let us say, achieved significant success in sorcery. Many mages who have hit their ceiling would give their right hand for this artifact without a second thought."
"And would you, Lord Zellos?" The warrior switched back to a formal tone, observing me with a slight tilt of his head.
"I would prefer to give something less necessary to me and more useful to you, Gazef." I look him straight in the eyes, although behind the mask it doesn't mean much.
"No need," the warrior smiled openly and freely. "You saved this village without asking for anything in return; you saved my unit, again demanding no reward. And I have already promised to help you however I can. If this ring helps you save someone else, then let it be yours."
"Well, I shall not refuse." I close my fist around the jewelry. "But that does not mean I will leave you without a gift in return." Even if it's foolish and irrational, you could say I am strengthening my image in the eyes of a promising recruit and making an investment in the future. Right now, he is somewhere around level twenty-five or thirty; by old age, he might reach forty or forty-five. But as a Wight or an Elder Vampire, he would already be level eighty. And anyway, every Dark Lord should give his future Nazgûl a ring. Tradition.
I reach into my inventory and pull out an "Epic Ring of Dragon Blood"—a decent artifact that gives +20 to all main stats, such as strength, endurance, and agility, as well as a bonus to elemental and magical resistances. By Nazarick standards, it's almost trash; here, it's beyond incredible.
"Take this." I hold out the gift. "This ring increases all physical characteristics to a level where an ordinary man can match a giant in strength. It also provides a bit of protection against magical and elemental damage. It won't completely save you from a third-tier Electrosphere, but it will keep you from turning into a charred corpse and even allow you to keep running. The protection is constant and does not weaken; damage from every spell will simply be reduced by a certain value. It does not interfere with positive magical effects."
"It sounds fantastical, but after what I saw today..." The warrior did not refuse and slipped the ring onto his finger.
However, the look in his eyes when he suddenly felt a surge of "incredible power" and, purely as a test, punched a centuries-old oak... Right through it. With his bare hand... It was amusing. Right up until the familiar breeze in my skull returned me to the state of a rational machine. Only it didn't last long, because I hadn't considered one ti-i-i-i-ny nuance.
"Zellos-oto-san exchanged rings with another man..." Shalltear was terrifying to behold; she was in a state of genuine panic and cultural shock. "Is it possible... Is it possible... There it is... That very thing, forbidden male friendship... Zellos-oto-san! Is it true? You... You... I never would have thought!!!"
*Clack!* Damn it... How, just how could this entire situation be viewed in such a light?!
"Ugh!" Gazef was in solidarity with me.
"Shalltear..." If I could, I would have groaned, but... "what kind of books did Peroroncino give you?" That damn Japanese man, is there any abyss of perversion you didn't touch?!
"I... I dreamed so much that someday... Lord Zellos would o-offer a ring to me-e-e..." Ignoring me, the vampiress continued to fall into a quiet hysteria with a glassy-eyed stare. A thought flickered in my head: "how fortunate that I mentioned we aren't blood relatives—incest is strongly disapproved of in many cultures."
"Oh, Great Powers..." The absurdity of the situation was so overwhelming that I covered my face with my hands. How am I supposed to comfort her while maintaining the legend and simultaneously turning into the same kind of freak in Gazef's eyes as the creator of this little girl?!
"I think it might be better not to disturb you right now," Stronoff suggested with a tactful cough into his fist.
"Yes... That would be most appropriate," I agreed, feeling a genuine gratitude toward the Captain.
"Then I shall attend to the prisoners," the man nodded and, giving me a sympathetic look, headed toward his men.
"Now, Shalltear," I lean toward the loli, shaking her slightly by the shoulders, "please return to reality."
"My Lord, I truly didn't know!" the girl began making excuses, blinking from the shaking.
"Silence!" I was almost growling. "I am a man, do you understand?! I like women! Not men, not something in between, not a third gender, not the genderless—only women. No exceptions! No other interpretations! Blink if you understand!"
"Zellos-oto-sa-a-an," blink-blink-blink... It takes so little to make her happy. "Does that mean you like your faithful Shalltear too?" And here we go again...
"Yes, but only when you control yourself. I do not like your fits of bloody madness. But today, you did well. I am proud of you. Now, give me that charming smile of yours and continue playing my daughter."
"Oh yes, my beloved oto-sama-a-a..." purred the vampiress, having entered a state of nirvana. I'm not sure she heard the whole sentence, but... it'll do.